Plumes of ionised warp plasma leaked into the plasma fields of the Badlands from Cardenas’ starboard nacelle, the explosive forces causing the ship to spin on all axis until a projected force field of incredible strength caused the Reliant-class starship’s momentum to cease. Finally brought under the control of the Century crew thanks to the stabilising forces of the Constitution III-class’ tractor beam, the investigation of the frigate could now commence safely.

“Engineering,” Nazir called over the internal comms, “where are we with the power transfer?”

With the tractor beam initiated and the frigate safely under the Century’s control, engineering had proposed a transfer of power to safely restore systems and enable away teams to transport aboard and investigate the situation presented to them. From his position at the pool table in the heart of the ship’s engineering bay, Lieutenant Orax pulled up the data for the power transfer and let out a satisfied smile.

Pressing a button on the panel directly ahead of him, the Denobulan’s voice cracked as he spoke. “Power transfer at forty-five percent and proceeding on schedule Captain,” he declared, watching as his Vulcan deputy monitored the process carefully for any mistakes.

“Enough for us to bring life support online?” the familiar voice of the Trill asked, a hint of hope to the tone she used and quickly latched on to by the Chief.

“Aye Captain,” the engineer confirmed, “but if you want power to more systems, I’d save the juice for key decks only to start with,” he suggested, watching as the success-o-meter ticked up another percentage point.

“Get a team together and meet us in the transporter room shortly,” the Trill commanded before terminating the channel to the engineering room, “bridge out.”

With the familiar boatswain’s whistle indicating the channel had closed, Orax looked across the table and nodded satisfactorily. “Mar; get damage control team bravo together, full kit. You’ll join me on the Cardenas. Voran; stay here and monitor the power transfer,” he instructed his team. “We’ll keep an open comm, so any issues, keep us updated.”

His team responded as swiftly as ever, allowing the Denobulan the chance to conduct one final sensor sweep of the target vessel before departing for the transporter bay.

By the time the engineers arrived in the transporter bay, Commander Prenar and several other officers were huddled together, discussing the endeavour they would embark upon shortly. Prenar would lead the away team and ascertain the state of the ship from within. Doctor Virell and her medical team would conduct sweeps for survivors and, if possible, ascertain the fate of anyone missing. Lieutenant Nes and his security team would oversee the safety and security of the personnel boarding the ship. They were, after all, not a million kilometers from Tzenkethi space. Intruders could not be ruled out at this early stage. All in all, just over a dozen people were prepared to beam over to the Cardenas and render whatever assistance their friends needed.

“Nes and the security team will board first. The rest of us will follow,” Prenar directed, nodding at the brutish Nausicaan. It was, perhaps, a little unorthodox to send the security team in first given the target vessel was one of Starfleet’s own, but such prudence had got Prenar to the position of power he now held on Century and he wasn’t going to abandon it now.

Silent and imposing, Denen Nes, a security officer of some eighteen years experience, pointed at his team and gestured for them to board the transporter pad as required by the XO, fully endorsing the Cardassian’s sense of caution.

With a nod, the security chief indicated the first wave of Century’s reinforcements to be ready.

Tapping his commbadge, Commander Prenar opened a channel to the bridge.

“Prenar to bridge,” the Cardassian’s voice permeated the tension that had gripped the bridge in recent minutes. Nazir looked up from her data PADD and was about to give the go ahead when an unfamiliar tone interrupted her train of thought.

“Stand by Number One,” she called into the comm whilst rising to her feet and approaching the Bajoran sat a few steps away. It didn’t take long for her to notice the unease Peri was feeling, or the look of concern etched on both the Bajoran and her Velari colleague at the CONN as they exchanged glances.

“What is it, Commander?” the Captain inquired, placing a hand on the headrest behind the tall brunette.

“A priority one transmission Captain,” the Bajoran replied, her tone hushed, “on a secured channel.”

Leaning over the Operations chief’s shoulder, the Trill looked the information over and let out a sigh. Tapping her commbadge, she reconnected with the XO. “We’re going to have to put a halt to things for now, Number One. Have the team remain in the transporter room but return here with the senior staff.”

“Understood Captain,” the Cardassian’s voice was clear and unwavering as the channel closed.

Turning on her heels, the diminutive Trill practically sprinted up the steps. “Transfer the message to the observation lounge. You have the bridge, Commander.”

Disappearing into the observation lounge mere seconds later, Keziah made her way to the chair at the head of the table. Leaning over, she pressed the control panel on the table and accessed the transmission file. An encoded transmission, on their most secure communications channel, marked for her eyes only. Starfleet certainly knew how to be cryptic.

“Computer,” she spoke, Century picking up her request and chiming in response. “Access priority one transmission. Authorisation Nazir, alpha-six-three.”

“Accessing,” Century’s sultry voice responded.

Waiting, she folded her arms across her chest and prepared for the face of some bureaucrat to appear, only to be surprised when a single text file flashed on the panel. 

Reaching down again, she opened the file. The cursor moved as the transmission typed itself out. Short and to the point. And incredibly concerning, too.